


A Useless Clumsy Oaf

by Adarog (RembrandtsWife)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Community: kinkme_merlin, Gen, M/M, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/Adarog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lancelot and Gwaine think Arthur is treating Merlin badly. Do they have the nerve to tell him so?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Useless Clumsy Oaf

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/25900.html?thread=26223404#t26223404) at kinkme_merlin. Fairly gen, some Merlin/Gwaine implied.

"So, how many things has he thrown at Merlin today?"

Lancelot grimaced as he passed the butter. "Two boots, a mace, a broken crossbow, and now the cup and the jug. Not counting whatever happened in Arthur's rooms--I think I heard Merlin say something about pillows."

Gwaine smeared a gob of butter on his bread and went for the honey jar. His mouth twisted up. "This has got to stop, Lance. Who does more for Arthur than Merlin does? Not you. Certainly not me." He snorted and bit into his bread.

"More than you know, my friend," Lance murmured, then hid his face in his cup. He shouldn't have said that. But when he glanced back at Gwaine, the other knight was looking at him with raised eyebrows, a dawning suspicion in his face.

"Is that so?" Gwaine said. He leaned in and spoke even more softly. "Do you know this for certain?"

"Yes. I've seen it." Lance reached for the bread and honey himself, to cover their conversation.

"Does Arthur know?"

"I can't tell. Sometimes I think he does, other times I'm sure he doesn't."

Gwaine grunted and leaned away. Merlin walked by carrying a tray with a fresh jug of wine and two clean cups. Gwaine caught him by the sleeve, lightly enough not to trip Merlin up, and the two shared a grin.

"I think we ought to do something," Gwaine declared, watching Merlin walk to Arthur's side. Arthur's voice rose in a familiar hectoring tone, and he took the jug and cups with elaborate gestures. "I think we need to give Arthur a little advice."

Lance didn't think it was necessarily a good idea, but he wound up going along with it. Funny how often that happened around Gwaine, although this time it didn't involve a tavern, barmaids, or bandits. Gwaine presented Merlin with a fib and a handy basket, telling him that Gaius needed him to gather some feverfew; then, with Merlin safely out of the way, Gwaine and Lance went to Arthur in his office.

If Arthur wasn't out fighting, he was doing paperwork. From the frown on his face, it was obvious he liked fighting a good deal more. Leon was hovering nearby, collecting dispatches as Arthur signed them.  
"Could we speak with you for a moment, Sire?" Lance used his most deferential tone. Gwaine tossed his hair and gave Leon a look.

Arthur stared at them for a moment, then signed two more dispatches with a flourish and handed them to Leon, nodding. Leon left the room, and Arthur leaned back in his chair. "I'm all yours," he said, steepling his hands.

"It's about Merlin," Gwaine said, before Lancelot could speak. His tone was anything but deferential.

Arthur cocked his head. "And what about my useless clumsy oaf of a manservant, *Sir* Gwaine?"

"He's neither useless nor clumsy," Gwaine barked. "All right, he's clumsy sometimes. But he's far from useless."

Arthur looked from Gwaine to Lance. "What exactly is this about?"

"Merlin is our friend, Sire," Lancelot said. He focused on Arthur's face, on the prince's sharp blue eyes. "We are a little concerned that he... may not know how much you appreciate him."

"You insult him, throw things at him, and never give him a new clothing allowance," Gwaine said. He folded his arms. "How long has he been wearing those same old rags he walked here in?"

To Lance's surprise, Arthur dropped his eyes. He didn't answer immediately, so Gwaine pressed his advantage. "His boots have patches, and the patches are wearing through. He's almost grown out of that jacket. He follows you into the worst of dangers, no weapons, no armor, not even decent shoes on his feet, and then you turn around and throw a *mace* at his head because he interrupted you during training--"

"Do you think," Arthur flared, "that if I really wanted to hit someone in the head, I would *miss* my aim?" He bit off the rest of his words, teeth showing in his lower lip.

Lancelot shifted, leaning on Arthur's desk, and followed a hunch. "Or do you expect that even if you aimed properly, Merlin could--dodge the blow?"

Those brilliant blue eyes struck on Lance's eyes like a lightning bolt. Gwaine took a sharp breath. "He's--he's dodged worse blows than I could ever give him," Arthur said slowly. "I don't know how he does it."

Gwaine looked at Lancelot, who nodded, barely. "And if Merlin were, say, a dangerous sorcerer disguised as a clumsy peasant," Gwaine said, running a hand through his hair, "then surely he would already have lost his temper and struck back, considering all the times you've insulted him."

Arthur looked at Gwaine with a perfectly composed expression. "I can't think of anyone less likely to be a sorcerer. Or anyone less important to me."

"We understand, Sire," Lancelot said. "Come on, Gwaine. You need to work on your crossbow form."

Arthur was silent as they left the room. Once they were safely down the hall, Gwaine blew out a breath. "So he knows."

"I think so. But I think it's better if Merlin doesn't know he knows. Not until they talk about it face to face."

"Right." Gwaine stopped, so Lance did, too. "Unless you really think I need work with the crossbow, I'm off to find Merlin and buy him a hot meal and a drink."

And see if you can get him into bed, Lance thought. "Good. Just don't buy him the best ale--you know he can't hold it."

He grinned. Gwaine laughed. "I know--that's why I buy it for him."

He ambled off, whistling. Lancelot thought of the look in Arthur's eyes, and sighed.


End file.
